


Patterns of Light

by fengirl88



Series: Patterns of Light [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Community: trope_bingo, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xavier's still asleep, sprawled face down on the pillow, his dark hair tousled and sticking up all anyhow.  He must have been thrashing around while Erik dozed in the chair; the sheet's slipped half-way down his back, revealing a distracting expanse of bare skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patterns of Light

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Дорожки света](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300210) by [krasnoe_solnishko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasnoe_solnishko/pseuds/krasnoe_solnishko)



> Written as a fill for the cop/detective AU square for trope_bingo, and inspired by [this photoset](http://clarasteam.tumblr.com/post/43431299183/i-finally-found-the-b-w-erik-picture-i-wanted-to).
> 
> No archive warnings apply, but please mind the tags.

“Xavier's the only one who can bring Shaw down,” MacTaggert had said. “We need you to bring him in, but watch yourself, Lehnsherr. He could be dangerous.”

Just Erik's luck: the star witness has to be a fucking _telepath_. If there's one thing he can't stand... He can still remember the agonizing pain that knifed through his head from that blonde sidekick of Shaw's. At least she's behind bars now, but for how long?

They'll have to get going soon, Erik thinks, or they won't make it to D.C. before nightfall.

Xavier's still asleep, sprawled face down on the pillow, his dark hair tousled and sticking up all anyhow. He must have been thrashing around while Erik dozed in the chair; the sheet's slipped half-way down his back, revealing a distracting expanse of bare skin.

Not just a telepathic star witness, but one who sleeps naked. Erik officially hates his life.

He stares at the blank wall in order not to look at Xavier, telling himself to focus on the mission, focus on getting Shaw once and for all. He'd have done better to sleep properly himself last night. Being this tired makes him more vulnerable to distraction. 

It's not as if Xavier's going to skip out on him; that much became clear yesterday when two of Shaw's goons jumped Erik. Xavier could have run, but he stayed and fought side by side with Erik, immobilizing one of the two with his powers while Erik floored the other and pinned him down with every piece of metal on his body. Whatever Xavier's scepticism about the courts and witness protection – and he'd had plenty to say on the subject of both when Erik picked him up – it looks like he's in this for the long haul.

Early morning sunlight coming through the blinds makes patterns on Xavier's back and shoulders. Erik swallows hard; he wants to run his tongue along those stripes of light and warmth, tasting the salt of Xavier's skin. He imagines sinking his teeth into the nape of Xavier's neck, licking and sucking at it till Xavier groans and writhes underneath him, pressing his hips against the mattress. He wants to kiss his way down Xavier's back, pushing the sheet aside to reveal more naked flesh, warmer as he goes lower, uncovering the curve of Xavier's buttocks and licking and biting and sucking as Xavier moans and squirms. Holding Xavier's cheeks apart and tonguing him, lazy and slow and insistent, till Xavier's whimpering and begging and can't remember his own name –

The sharp wordless cry echoes in his head. For a moment he thinks he must have imagined it and then he realizes Xavier's awake and staring at him, eyes wide and dark. His cheeks are flushed, maybe with sleep or maybe not...

“What time is it?” Xavier's voice is unsteady, as if that's not what he wants to say at all.

“Nearly six,” Erik says. “We should go soon.”

Xavier looks at him, a long look. He doesn't say anything.

Erik's uncomfortably aware that he's got an erection; it wouldn't take a telepath to work out what's been going through his mind. His face scalds as he imagines what MacTaggert would say if she knew: _unprofessional, disgrace, jeopardizing the mission..._

Xavier laughs. “You have no _idea_ ,” he says. “Obviously you've never got on the wrong side of Agent MacTaggert.”

“Stay out of my head!” Erik snaps. _Fucking telepaths_.

 _Fucking telepaths was rather the point, wasn't it?_ , Xavier's mocking voice says in his mind. 

Erik glares at him and tries to remind himself that throttling witnesses is even more against the rules than fucking them.

“I can block you, of course,” Xavier says, cool as you please, “though you're awfully loud. It might help if you could think of something else.”

“I'm going to have a shower,” Erik says, getting up abruptly. No point in trying to hide his erection now, but at least he can get rid of it.

The image that flares in his mind is clearly a projection, and it's so strong it almost makes him stagger: himself and Xavier in the shower, Xavier kneeling in front of him, frantically sucking his cock as Erik grips his hair and shudders into orgasm...

“ _You_ – ” Erik says, almost choking with rage. 

“Enjoy your shower,” Xavier says sweetly. 

He looks at Erik as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, which is about as unhelpful a comparison as Erik's treacherous mind could possibly come up with.

Erik's so hard it actually hurts. And, for the record, cold showers do not help _at all_.


End file.
